“I could never get him out of climbing ladders and raking leaves,” daughter Diana Sanders said. “About three months ago, he had gotten into a trash can trying to press down all the leaves and it fell over backwards. Things started going downhill from there.”

A World War II veteran whose missions included photo reconnaissance of Japan, Chase was most recently honored in an Artists That Made Sarasota Famous exhibition in 2012. Chase left his native Illinois for Sarasota after the war, studied at what was then Ringling School of Art & Design, and impressed people like John Ringling and Cecil B. DeMille with his creative skills.

Among his students was philanthropist Marie Selby, who in 1952 bought him some property a block from Sarasota Bay where he could set up his own art studio. For the next 30 years, Chase would produce paintings, sculptures, photos and serigraphs that would wind up in places as disparate as The Ford Collection of Modern Art to the home of actor Charlton Heston.

Selby, namesake of Sarasota's world-renowned Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, also gave Chase a banyan tree long before her death in 1971. It now dominates the funky residential compound that doubled as his studio, where he abandoned paint brushes for sponges and cardboard mats.

In tribute to Selby's generosity, Chase became a volunteer fixture at the Gardens every Sunday. He flowered as a chatterbox guide who regaled strangers with tales of dubious authenticity.

“I started getting calls from people who were very concerned because they'd seen him at the Gardens with this awful wound that ran from his knee to his ankle,” Sanders said. “He was telling them he'd cut himself with a chainsaw.

“The truth is, he fell off a ladder picking papayas and he scraped his leg on the way down. I said, 'You can't go around telling everybody this chainsaw story,' and he said, 'Well, it's a lot more interesting than saying I fell off a ladder.' ”

Selby CEO Tom Buchter called Chase “one of a kind in terms of his connection to the Garden's history” and said he often visited the place on Sundays “just to see Bob.”

“Our Gardens are first about people, and only second about plants,” he said. “We don't necessarily want to send people out of here with a botany degree, but we do want to engage them, and that's what Bob was so good at. He loved meeting people.”

Chase liked to tell people about his globe-trotting days across the Americas in search of bromeliads and orchids, and that he wound up in Sarasota only because a hunter with a pickup truck piled with dead alligators dumped him here as he — Chase — attempted to hitchhike to Key West.

The old Army veteran also made a habit of showing Selby visitors a map to his home, from which he would venture 2.5 miles each Sunday on his electric bike to do his volunteer work. When visitors actually followed through and showed up at his door during his later years, Chase would frequently offer tours and even give away some of his artwork.

“Used to be, people would come around when I wasn't here, take a painting they liked, and put a thumbtack through a check and stick it on the wall out there. That's how honest it was," Chase told the Herald-Tribune for a profile in January. “Not so much anymore. These days, I don't care if they steal it. Now if they steal it, it makes me feel good because they must like it.”

Chase's luck began to run out after he took his trashcan spill several months ago, Sanders said. X-rays indicated he had aggravated an old compression fracture sustained in a plane crash during the war.

“At first they said it would take him about six weeks to recover, but six weeks later, he was still in a lot of pain and he was still bedridden,” Sanders said. “Then he started complaining that he was just wearing out, and that's what happened. It was a combination of a lot of things.”

Sanders marvels at her dad's ability to live life on his own terms, as well as the eclectic mix of students who flowed with him: a Polish prince, the wife of the head of IBM, “all these highfalutin people” paying big bucks for his work. “And the thing is, he only taught class six months a year,” she adds. “When I was growing up, that's what I thought people did.”

Chase was preceded in death by his wife, Jean. He is also survived by daughter Wawewa Lonewolf of New York and grandson Shawn Sanders of Sarasota.

No memorial services are scheduled, but Sanders says a “celebration of life” is pending. For details, Chase asks that friends contact her at wildartdcs@aol.com or at 941-685-2094.

One of the last stories Chase liked to tell was getting a free ride across Sarasota Bay after hooking a shark while kayak fishing. Was that one true?

“Well. Yeah. Kinda,” Sanders said. “He was fishing with a buddy and he did hook a shark. But how far he went, I don't know."

<p><em>SARASOTA</em> - Raconteur artist Bob Chase, a Sarasota original whose unconventional painting style drew students from around the world to his unconventional studio, died Saturday at age 95.</p><p>“I could never get him out of climbing ladders and raking leaves,” daughter Diana Sanders said. “About three months ago, he had gotten into a trash can trying to press down all the leaves and it fell over backwards. Things started going downhill from there.”</p><p>A World War II veteran whose missions included photo reconnaissance of Japan, Chase was most recently honored in an Artists That Made Sarasota Famous exhibition in 2012. Chase left his native Illinois for Sarasota after the war, studied at what was then Ringling School of Art & Design, and impressed people like John Ringling and Cecil B. DeMille with his creative skills.</p><p>Among his students was philanthropist Marie Selby, who in 1952 bought him some property a block from Sarasota Bay where he could set up his own art studio. For the next 30 years, Chase would produce paintings, sculptures, photos and serigraphs that would wind up in places as disparate as The Ford Collection of Modern Art to the home of actor Charlton Heston.</p><p>Selby, namesake of Sarasota's world-renowned Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, also gave Chase a banyan tree long before her death in 1971. It now dominates the funky residential compound that doubled as his studio, where he abandoned paint brushes for sponges and cardboard mats.</p><p>In tribute to Selby's generosity, Chase became a volunteer fixture at the Gardens every Sunday. He flowered as a chatterbox guide who regaled strangers with tales of dubious authenticity.</p><p>“I started getting calls from people who were very concerned because they'd seen him at the Gardens with this awful wound that ran from his knee to his ankle,” Sanders said. “He was telling them he'd cut himself with a chainsaw.</p><p>“The truth is, he fell off a ladder picking papayas and he scraped his leg on the way down. I said, 'You can't go around telling everybody this chainsaw story,' and he said, 'Well, it's a lot more interesting than saying I fell off a ladder.' ”</p><p>Selby CEO Tom Buchter called Chase “one of a kind in terms of his connection to the Garden's history” and said he often visited the place on Sundays “just to see Bob.”</p><p>“Our Gardens are first about people, and only second about plants,” he said. “We don't necessarily want to send people out of here with a botany degree, but we do want to engage them, and that's what Bob was so good at. He loved meeting people.”</p><p>Chase liked to tell people about his globe-trotting days across the Americas in search of bromeliads and orchids, and that he wound up in Sarasota only because a hunter with a pickup truck piled with dead alligators dumped him here as he — Chase — attempted to hitchhike to Key West.</p><p>The old Army veteran also made a habit of showing Selby visitors a map to his home, from which he would venture 2.5 miles each Sunday on his electric bike to do his volunteer work. When visitors actually followed through and showed up at his door during his later years, Chase would frequently offer tours and even give away some of his artwork.</p><p>“Used to be, people would come around when I wasn't here, take a painting they liked, and put a thumbtack through a check and stick it on the wall out there. That's how honest it was," Chase told the Herald-Tribune for a profile in January. “Not so much anymore. These days, I don't care if they steal it. Now if they steal it, it makes me feel good because they must like it.”</p><p>Chase's luck began to run out after he took his trashcan spill several months ago, Sanders said. X-rays indicated he had aggravated an old compression fracture sustained in a plane crash during the war. </p><p>“At first they said it would take him about six weeks to recover, but six weeks later, he was still in a lot of pain and he was still bedridden,” Sanders said. “Then he started complaining that he was just wearing out, and that's what happened. It was a combination of a lot of things.”</p><p>Sanders marvels at her dad's ability to live life on his own terms, as well as the eclectic mix of students who flowed with him: a Polish prince, the wife of the head of IBM, “all these highfalutin people” paying big bucks for his work. “And the thing is, he only taught class six months a year,” she adds. “When I was growing up, that's what I thought people did.”</p><p>Chase was preceded in death by his wife, Jean. He is also survived by daughter Wawewa Lonewolf of New York and grandson Shawn Sanders of Sarasota.</p><p>No memorial services are scheduled, but Sanders says a “celebration of life” is pending. For details, Chase asks that friends contact her at wildartdcs@aol.com or at 941-685-2094.</p><p>One of the last stories Chase liked to tell was getting a free ride across Sarasota Bay after hooking a shark while kayak fishing. Was that one true?</p><p>“Well. Yeah. Kinda,” Sanders said. “He was fishing with a buddy and he did hook a shark. But how far he went, I don't know."</p>